An Alaskan Wedding. Belle Calhoune
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flirting with Shelly gave Declan a direct line to his private office. All it took on his part was a wink and a smile.
Declan plunked himself down in one of the comfortable leather swivel chairs opposite Boone’s desk. From past experience, Boone knew it was a sure sign he was planning to stay awhile.
Boone raised his head and subjected him to a fierce scowl. “I thought you were heading over to the Moose. From the sounds of it, the whole town is over there.”
“I stopped in for an espresso,” Declan said. “And a few of those churro treats Cameron makes.”
Boone rolled his eyes at his best friend. A year ago he hadn’t known an espresso from a hot chocolate. Now all of a sudden he was a connoisseur.
Declan leaned back in his chair and slowly began to stroke his chin. “So, I saw you talking to the dark-haired one earlier on the pier. Ginny. Georgia. I think that’s her name.”
“Grace,” he said, his tone clipped. “Grace Corbett.”
Declan shot him a knowing look textured with twenty-plus years of friendship. “So, you got your eye on her, huh?”
Boone leveled a category-five glare at his best friend. “No, I do not have my eye on Grace Corbett. Despite my grandfather’s grand scheme to bring marriageable women and marry off the single men in town, I want nothing to do with it. And if I did want to fall in love and settle down, I certainly wouldn’t hand-select a woman who doesn’t have the brains God gave a goose.” Settling back in his chair, Boone let loose with a loud harrumph. “Sky-high heels. It’s a wonder she didn’t break her neck.”
Declan swung his feet onto the edge of Boone’s desk and leaned back in his chair, his hands propped behind his head. A wide grin showcased a set of pearly whites. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not interested, ’cause there are a few men already staking their claim.”
Boone shot up in his chair. “Staking a claim? They aren’t pieces of property to be claimed, Declan. It’s chauvinistic comments like yours that got us into this sad situation in the first place.”
Declan waved a hand in the air. “Take it easy. I didn’t mean it like that. And I’m not taking responsibility for the woman shortage in this town. Those ripples started when we were barely a twinkle in our parents’ eyes.”
Boone lowered his head and tried to focus on the report set out before him on his desk. “So, who’s circling around Grace?” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended.
“Why don’t you come with me to the Moose Café and find out for yourself?” Declan tossed out the invitation with all the grace of a major-league pitcher. He stood up from his chair, a sly grin etched on his face.
Humph, he thought grumpily. It was classic Declan to dangle a carrot in front of his nose, knowing he could never resist a challenge being thrown down. He’d been doing it ever since they were in the second grade. With a loud groan he surrendered, pushing himself away from his desk and making his way toward his office door. Much to his chagrin, his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Kona cocked her head to the side and proceeded to trail after him. With a quick hand signal and a one-word command, he had Kona settled back down in her dog bed.
With his best friend following behind him, Boone wrenched his office door open and strode down the hall past his bewildered-looking receptionist.
“I thought you were in for the rest of the afternoon,” Shelly called out after him.
“I thought so, too,” he mumbled as he strode out the door and beat a fast path across the street to the Moose Café.
* * *
Cameron beamed with pride as he finished the grand tour and led them back into the main dining area of the café. While they were in the kitchen, Sophie had asked all the right questions—while Grace had been praying that Cameron wouldn’t ask too many questions about their previous work experience as baristas. It was nice to see that Cameron was so gung ho about the Moose Café and all its trimmings. “It sure is beautiful,” Sophie said, her tone brimming with enthusiasm.
“Thanks. It’s my pride and joy. Why don’t the two of you take a seat and I’ll bring you something to eat?” He gestured toward the dining area. The crowd literally parted as they made their way to one of the tables by the window. There were lots of curious stares and hats tipped in their direction. Several men rushed forward to pull their chairs out for them and stick menus in their hands. Sophie was all polite smiles and thank-yous while Grace was still trying to figure out how she was going to wing it as a barista. Thankfully the place was only open six hours a day.
When she went to sit down she found the chair in front of her being wrenched to the left and then to the right. And back again. Two men were having a tug-of-war over the chair. They’d introduced themselves to her and Sophie earlier at the dock, although for the life of her she couldn’t remember either of their names. Henry? Theodore? She held up her hands, prepared to tell both of them to knock it off when they released the chair and began poking each other in the chest.
The sound of a sharp whistle rent the air. “Hey! What’s going on here?” She blinked in surprise to see Sheriff Boone at her side, his arm encircling her back in a protective gesture. He gently pushed her aside before stepping in between the two adversaries. He looked at one, then the other, his expression forbidding. “I hope neither one of you is doing anything that might warrant a trip to the sheriff’s office.” He continued to swing his gaze back and forth between both men. “I think it’s best to shake hands and apologize to the ladies for being overzealous.”
The two men hung their heads, grudgingly shook hands and then mumbled brief words of apology before stepping into the background. Grace almost felt sorry for them. They’d slunk off like polecats.
What in the world had just happened? Had two men actually been fighting over her in an Alaskan coffeehouse?
Boone looked down at his watch and then pointedly back to her. “Congratulations, Miss Corbett. You’ve been in town for less than an hour, and you already have grown men fighting over you.”
Heat warmed her cheeks as a result of Sheriff Prescott’s comment. Was she really being blamed for the mayhem that had just erupted? The last thing she wanted was for two local yokels to duke it out for her time and attention. She made a mental note to add this to her column for the Tribune. Men shamelessly brawling over a single woman in a local eating establishment. The sheriff of Love forced to break things up. It was thrilling to see how quickly anecdotes for her articles were beginning to materialize. Yet it was annoying to be blamed for something she’d had no part in.
“I never wanted... I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, instantly losing her composure under the heat of his gaze.
His grin was slow in the making, but bit by bit it broke over his face until it seemed as if it stretched from ear to ear. Brown eyes twinkled. Little crinkles gathered near his eyes. “I’m teasing you. Seth and Thomas fight over every little thing under the sun. If they weren’t fighting over you, it would have been over who was picking up the tab or which one of ’em caught the biggest fish.”
Relief swept through her. For some reason she didn’t want the sheriff to think she was starting trouble on her first day in Love. She smiled back at him, feeling a bit dazzled by his pearly whites and effortless charm. He pulled back her chair and gestured for her to sit down. From her seat across from Grace, Sophie was beaming at Sheriff Prescott as if he’d just achieved world peace. Before she could make the introductions, Sophie stuck out her hand. “Howdy. I’m Sophie Miller. Nice to meet the man who keeps law and order in this town.”
“Sheriff Boone Prescott,” he said, reaching out to shake Sophie’s hand. “I do my best to keep this town orderly.”
Prescott? Prescott? The name was now ringing in her ears. She’d